


Lime, Salt and Bones

by Sourastherain



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Body Shots, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:46:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourastherain/pseuds/Sourastherain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Bones and a little tequila leads to an innocent little body shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lime, Salt and Bones

Jim has everything set up in their dorm, he's sliced limes and stolen a salt shaker from the mess hall and bought good tequila because Bones huffed and pulled out the bourbon last time Jim tried to do shots with his grumpy best friend. So Jim has everything spread out, because he has been wanting to get into Bones' pants pretty much since the shuttle from Riverside and he can't think of anything better than getting his tongue involved as soon as possible. 

His plan is foolproof. 

So when Bones makes it back from his last class, tired and skeptical, but can't quite find it in himself to keep resisting, he gives in. They sit across from each other at their low coffee table, Jim graciously giving Bones the couch and sprawling on the floor himself. 

"Shots," Bones sighs after the first one, but he actually looks like he might feel less like a grumpy doctor going through medical school all over again for different alien species, less like a cadet with too many classes to train him to go up into the black he fears, less like an asshole who couldn't make his marriage work. 

Which is how Jim likes to see him, so he goes to this trouble because it's for his Bones. They’ve got something that’s been slowly burning hotter and hotter and Jim can barely stand it anymore. He watches Bones swallow, tells his best friend a story that starts with tequila and ends with him waking up half-naked in a parking lot. 

"Unhygienic," Bones quips and knocks back a third shot with him. "Top or bottom?"

Jim breathes in the sour juice of his lime and coughs it out before he can choke. Bones realizes the slip immediately and rolls his eyes to correct himself.

"I can switch hit, pretty versatile," Jim says before Bones can. He tacks on a wink with a watery eye because it's part of that Kirk charm and he's laying it on thick, alright.

"You reprobate, stop flirtin' with me," Bones huffs.

"You haven't had enough shots yet," Jim retorts and makes a line between them of the odd little glasses from around San Francisco. They're a shared collection, like so much between Jim and Bones. They make the shots shared too, with each other, eyes lingering intensely, until they’re both actually drunk and sloppy.

“What’s the occasion?” Bones finally asks. Jim watches him lean back, arms hooked over the top of the couch, spread out for Jim.

“Have you ever done a body shot?” Jim counters to avoid it.

Bones raises an eyebrow at him. “I was young once,” he says with amusement, interest, and Jim grips onto that.

“You ever had someone do body shots off you?” Jim continues, licking his lips.

“No,” Bones replies and his voice is a low drawl, “I haven’t.”

Jim can’t bring himself to ask, he’s much more motion and action than questions, so he scrambles up and knocks the coffee table with his knee. He can’t bring himself to care because Bones hooks his fingers into his collar and pulls at it invitingly. They’re finally going to do this and Jim might fumble all the way through it. That’s okay.

Bones moves with the sloppiness of too much booze, but he’s still fluid about getting out of his shirt. Jim can’t believe he’s actually gotten this lucky, finally, that he’s going to trace those muscles with his tongue. The doctor has no right to be so lean and sexy. This is entire his fault. 

“How do you want me?” Bones murmurs, like a bad cliche with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops.

“Just lie back,” Jim manages to say. 

“Wait a minute,” Bones says. He holds up his hands and Jim doesn’t fall on him simply because of the steadying gesture. “We’re doing this?”

“We don’t have to, Bones,” Jim replies in a halted voice. There’s the last out, though, he tells himself, because he’s not going to waffle any longer, not when he’s come this far.

“Just the shot, Jim, alright?” Bones says though he doesn’t sound completely convinced. It’s a line not to cross and Jim hears it loud and clear. It’s sex, it’s not kissing. Bones makes it even clearer when he doesn’t put the lime between his lips.

“Yeah, Bones,” Jim whispers, and they can both hear how stupid this is. “Just the shot.”

His best friend settles down on the couch, lime between his fingers, the other hand empty and twitching. Bones is breathing heavily through his nose and it’s anticipation, fear, regret--already they cut through the easy drunk haze of tequila shots with your roommate. Jim could take it kneeling beside the couch, but instead, if it’s just the shot, he’s going for broke. He settles between Bone’s knees, liquor bottle in one hand, purloined salt shaker in the other.

They don’t look at each other as they set up the shot. Bones props his hand up with the lime and Jim listens to him hiss as the room temperature liquid is poured into his belly button. It glistens between his sexy abs and god, they’re drunk and stupid. Jim almost upsets this tense balance when he plunks the tequila back on the coffee table and nearly face-plants into the carpet. 

It probably would have been the best option, now comes the salt.

Jim feels Bones’ muscles contract at the soft lap to his collarbone. It’s not fair and too far, but neither of them break the silence. He just shakes salt over the wetted bronze skin and then drops the shaker because he’s pretty sure they won’t need it again. 

“You gonna do this some time this week?” Bones breathes out, supposedly grumpy but more unsure than anything else. Jim pushes the dark haired man’s head back on the arm of the couch, palm to his forehead and goes in, more than ready and less than prepared to crash through this together. 

Jim doesn’t just get the salt he put on Bones’ skin, he gets a salty taste of Bones and sweat, one that he wants to dwell on but can’t because then he’s licking down Bones’ chest and sucking tequila up. Maybe he does linger a little longer than it takes to get the shot, maybe he doesn’t usually turn things so sensual in situations like this, but by the time he gets around the the lime he barely notices the citrusy burst. He’s just had Bones on his tongue and he has to get out of there.

Suddenly, Bones shifts and the couch creaks, setting Jim off balance. He throws out his hand on the doctor’s shoulder to steady himself but his elbow crumples when he’s pulled down, eye to eye with smoldering, wide hazel.

Jim reaches up and spits the lime out, tosses it away.

“I thought you said just the shot,” he murmurs, lips inches away from Bones’ mouth and what he’s been wanting for a while now.

“Can I change my mind?” Bones asks, unsure but hopeful.

“Only once,” Jim answers, and delves in for a kiss that’s long overdue.


End file.
